


Take A Dip In That Dumpster While Your Mentor Takes A Sip

by agib



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bullied Peter Parker, Bullying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flash Bullies Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-18 16:07:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16998201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agib/pseuds/agib
Summary: Peter's having issues at school, and they're getting to the point where it begins to impact his behavior, anxiety and self-consciousness. Tony's patient, up till Happy get's involved, and then for once, a bad guy's terrible plan actually helps someone.





	1. Bullet Holes

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I started writing this and had absolutely zero planning and zero idea as to what it would turn out to be... so, I hope you enjoy it? If you do then maybe I'll try just writing, no plan, completely winging it, a bit more often.
> 
> Please leave comments because they seriously make me overjoyed to the stupidest degree.
> 
> My tumblr is Agib-2002 so if you want to leave asks or randomly message me literally anything, do that, because I will love you forever. (But it's not like I don't love all of you who even bother clicking on my fics)
> 
> <3

Why was he even out tonight? He honestly didn’t know, he really didn’t. English assignment due in four days, science homework due tomorrow morning and yet a string of house robberies were somehow more important.

 

Well, in terms of _his_ life compared to _real_ life, a string of robberies probably were more important.

 

Peter rolled to his side with a heavy groan, it was muffled against the dewy grass and he consequently spat out a buttercup that stuck wetly to his bottom lip. He reached up and gingerly prodded at his shoulder, feeling as his fingers became slick with blood.

 

“Oh shit,” he mumbled under his breath as he flipped to his back awkwardly, the pain flaring in his shoulder briefly as he did so. “Getting shot hurts,” he complained into the cool night air, watching as his breath escaped in a puff of condensation. He took a breath in, felt the cold inside his throat, and sat up slowly, carefully, as to not disturb his shoulder any more. He meticulously stood, wavering slightly as the blood rushed to his head and the buildings around him swung slightly in their place. The view reminded him of a snow globe Ned had gotten him once, minus the fake, white glitter that drifted over the city. He smiled for a moment, before wincing dramatically as the now tender flesh of his shoulder throbbed uncomfortably.

 

The teen staggered back home, opting to not use his webs to get back to the apartment. He clutched at his wound, applying pressure to staunch the slow stream of blood that was no doubt staining his suit. As he wandered through back alleys and past run-down dumpsters, which made him shudder at old memories, he thought seriously about how glad he was that Ned and himself had removed the suits protocol to call Tony when he was hurt. Funnily enough, a phone call with his mentor explaining how he managed to get shot, at eleven forty-two on a Wednesday night, was probably the last thing he felt like doing.

 

Peter clambered through his window painfully slowly, taking extra caution not to disturb his wound, which had finally stopped bleeding sluggishly and was beginning to turn sticky as it clung to the already red fabric. He disengaged his suit and peeled off his mask, cautiously unsticking the fabric from the congested blood covering his shoulder. While he showered, he didn’t bother to use soap on his shoulder, choosing instead to hesitantly wash away the darker crimson so he could inspect the wound properly when he was done.

 

He stepped out, drying the wild curls that hung damply with his one good arm as feet rubbed against the overly fluffy bath mat beneath him. The boy looked in the mirror and examined the damage. The wound was a clean-shot and there didn’t seem to be any fragments remaining in the tender flesh, it hurt horribly to move his arm much, but dabbing around the worst of it with antiseptic helped. He wrapped it up and applied tape over the thick bandages to avoid infection.

 

Tiredly, he collapsed in his bed, eyes fluttering shut in sleep before his head even hit the pillow. He dreamt of split lips, asthma attacks and bags of grimy, week-old trash.

 

\----

 

Peter woke with a start. Chocolate, tawny curls were matted to his forehead with sweat, and messy from his tossing and turning during the night. Stiffness had spread throughout his shoulder during the night, and it ached as he dressed for school and ate breakfast quickly. Before May had even woken for work, he was out the door and headed to school in a blur of wrinkled sweaters and unwashed plates.

 

Meeting Ned, Peter passed through his day in a haze, trying to ignore the sharp pains that throbbed through his shoulder whenever he moved too abruptly. He drank water and ate more than he usually would, to accelerate his healing process, ignoring the snide comments from Flash about how much he consumed. By the end of the day he was overtly worn out, and barely managed to drag himself to his room before he wilted onto his mattress, body growing slack while he groaned as his shoulder protested the movement.

 

Later that night, he peeled off the bandages and checked both the entry and exit wounds, they had mostly healed, the skin was fresh and shiny but still ached deeply, at least it was far better than it had looked last night.

 

He headed out on patrol, after only minor deliberations, and felt the wind whipping and chilling the open skin where the bullet had torn a small hole. He was seeing Tony that Sunday for a new web fluid which would have increased elasticity and should degrade with no trouble. Peter knew he should go talk to him about the hole tonight, especially considering he had no idea if it would get worse the longer he left it, or if it would mess up any electronics within the body of the suit.

 

\----

 

Peter’s right shoulder tingled. He could feel the phantom pain from his already healed bullet wound. He ignored it and rolled his neck to both sides, attempting to loosen up. He held the ripped suit in his hands, the sleek material limp in his wobbly fingertips as he craned his head upwards at the skyline.

 

The Stark Tower Complex, a high-rise building with its ninety-three-story main tower and the two smaller South and North buildings. Peter knew his way around the main tower – he visited most weeks to work on things and train with the team. It still felt surreal to him, training with the Avengers. Peter Parker, getting hand-to-hand combat tips from the Black Widow herself, and being able to match Captain America’s strength when he sparred with him. Of course, he wasn’t Peter Parker as he did all that, he kept his mask and suit on when he was with the others. There was an unimaginably enormous difference between Spider-Man and ‘ _Penis Parker_.’ The only person who _really_ knew Peter Parker was Tony. As amazing as it was to fight and train alongside the Avengers every so often, Peter’s favourite thing was just sitting with his mentor and tinkering with web shooters.

 

He stepped inside and made his way through the security stations with a flick of his key card.  
“It’s just Mr. Stark,” he murmured to himself as he swiped his access card and heard the whirr of the elevator start up.

 

The boy stepped into the empty elevator, not surprised that the lower levels of the tower were devoid of life and sound. He wasn’t concerned with the lack of coffee fuelled workers, mostly because it was one fifty-three in the morning, and pitch black outside the glass walls of the elevator. Despite this, Peter knew Tony would be awake. He could picture the mechanic, hunched over one of the many work benches in his personal lab, AC/DC throbbing in the background, a few empty energy drinks and coffee cups placed haphazardly out of the way of whatever the man was working on.

 

“Is, uhm, I – is Mr. Stark in his lab right now?” Peter asked F.R.I.D.A.Y, wincing at his crackly voice.

 

“Yes, Sir is currently working in his personal lab. Would you like me to notify him of your arrival Mr. Parker?”

 

“Uh, yeah, thanks F.R.I,” he managed. He didn’t have to jab at the elevator buttons, F.R.I.D.A.Y took him straight up to the right floor. As the A.I announced the elevator had come to a stop and the doors slid open, Peter stepped out into the dim hallway.

 

Irritatingly, he had to squint through the darkness at the one lab which had all its fluorescent lights burning brightly and illuminating the dark walkway. Not to his surprise – he could see the mechanic hunched over his workbench, heard the thrum of an AC/DC song from within the lab and took note of several cans and cups of caffeine riddled drinks.

 

Tony didn’t look up when he threw a casual wave in Peter’s direction as he swiped his card and shuffled into the lab uncertainly.

 

“Hey kid,” Tony said evenly, his head still bent over his project.

 

“H – hey Mr. Stark,” Peter said weakly, hating the slight stutter that made his voice waver and the meek demeanour he always seemed to exude when he felt like he was being a bother. The older mans head finally tore away from his work bench and his eyes met the teens. Well, they would have made eye contact if Peter didn’t have his head facing the ground, his curly brown locks falling across his eyes and blocking them from Tony’s view.

 

Peter heard the soft noise of metal meeting countertop and then footsteps, still not daring to look up. He saw Tony’s black, high-top sneakers out of the corner of his eyes and slowly raised his head to look at the man, wrinkling his nose as his cheeks burnt.

 

“Hey Pete, you good?” Mr. Stark asked softly, curiosity and concern lacing his tone in a way that slightly eased the worry in Peter’s gut.

 

“I – I just,” he began, taking a breath inwards, “I just – I need your help, please.” He watched as Tony’s worried face dissolved into a gentle smile.

 

“Sure kiddo, what’s up?” Tony seemed to pause slightly before stepping forward and placing a comforting hand on Peter’s shoulder, burning away his anxiety and replacing it with a warm feeling of safety that crawled through his veins. Peter held up his damaged suit, angling the fabric so the hole from the bullet faced Tony.

 

“I, uh, yeah I need a hand fixing the suit – I sorta, um, got shot?” Peter perked his tone upwards at the end of his sentence, like a question. Tony took the suit from him, breaking the brief contact between them and leaving Peter feeling somewhat cold again.

 

Tony laid the torso and arms of the suit onto a lightbox table, the burning white of the surface beaming up at the two through the small hole in the shoulder.

 

Peter tried not to think of the way Tony could most likely see his eye bags from the direct lighting, or the fact that the harsh glare made his head hurt as an almost instantaneous headache grew behind his eyes.

 

“Huh. Must’ve been a clean shot, went straight through both sides,” Tony fixed his eyes on Peter’s face once more, surveying him for anything worrying that could be present in his expression. “You don’t have any fragments of the bullet still in your shoulder, do you?” He asked hesitantly, as if afraid of the answer.

 

“No, you’re right, it went straight through.” The genius looked relieved, “I healed pretty quick, it’s just kinda stiff now though,” Peter added quickly. Tony made a slight noise of approval, humming briefly as he surveyed the suit.

 

“This won’t take long kid, you can take a seat if you want,” Tony waved an arm, gesturing to a couch against the far wall. Peter sat quietly. While the mechanic began working, Peter felt content, he mulled over how irrational he had been, of course Tony wouldn’t be mad at him. He was Spider-Man, he swung around Queens and fought petty criminals, he was bound to damage the suit every now and then.

 

The steady ease of Tony’s acceptance to help Peter out with the suit made the small thought flicker in his mind. Should he reach out for help outside of Spider-Man related issues? Although that thought was shoved away quickly, for obvious reasons, he told himself.

 

\----

 

Half an hour later and Peter was heading back to the elevator with his newly fixed suit in hands and the remnants of a grateful ‘ _thanks_ ’ on his tongue. Despite the length of his day and his exhaustion from healing a bullet wound in under forty-eight hours, Peter had a good Thursday night.

 

After a brief chat with F.R.I.D.A.Y, a quick elevator trip and some web slinging later, Peter was home, content in his bed and letting his heavy eyelids slip shut till later that morning.


	2. Bots and Bathrooms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a fight in the city and Tony asks Peter to drop by the tower after they've finished up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I started writing this and had absolutely zero planning and zero idea as to what it would turn out to be... so, I hope you enjoy it? If you do then maybe I'll try just writing, no plan, completely winging it, a bit more often.
> 
> Please leave comments because they seriously make me overjoyed to the stupidest degree.
> 
> My tumblr is Agib-2002 so if you want to leave asks or randomly message me literally anything, do that, because I will love you forever. (But it's not like I don't love all of you who even bother clicking on my fics)
> 
> <3

“Jeez, you’re killing me here Cap,” there was a clanging sound that reverberated through the comm line. “Just aim for the back of their heads, where the neck meets the skull, it’s the weakest point and you can easily sever the power core.” Tony grinned lopsidedly from within the suit as he watched Steve doing exactly that, completely beheading two bots with the flick of his wrist as his shield bounced back to his magnetised glove. “Told you,” he teased with smugness clinging to his tone.

 

“Sure, like I wouldn’t have figured that out on my own,” Steve rolled over the hood of a car and kicked a third bot hard enough to send it smacking into a telephone pole and cracking the eye lens. “You might just want to fight on the ground for this one, these things are spreading out too much for my liking, we need someone on civilian duty,” Tony landed with a thud a few feet away from the soldier, blasting the four closest threats and grinning as he saw Clint atop a nearby building. The archer was making quick work of his arrow supply, he was efficient, the bots’ necks were so exposed as they focused on Tony and Steve that Clint was taking them out with one effective shot.

 

“I sure as hell won’t be dealing with getting them out of the way, they’ll flock me,” Tony deflected. If Clint hadn’t been so busy grappling with a bot that had found its way to the building he was perched on, he would have rolled his eyes.

 

“Whose fault was it that you decided to tell the world you were Iron Man, huh?” Steve shot back, blasting the bot that Sam had been defiantly hand-to-handing with for the past few minutes and resisted the urge to poke his tongue out like a child.

 

“Stop arguing, I’m swamped about a block over from you, but someone’s got to deal with civilians, they’re first priority.” Natasha bent down, letting the bot that had charged her roll gracelessly over her back before she elegantly straightened and brought the back of her elbow down on its weak point, hearing the satisfying crunch as the power source line snapped and the computerized red glow to its eyes powered down as it crumpled to the ground.

 

The comm line stayed silent as everyone focused on the fight for a moment more before it crackled as another signal buzzed in.

 

“I’m on civilians,” a voice the team recognised called as Tony’s eyebrow quirked. The mechanic was the only one who seemed to have heard the painfully obvious youth in the pitch of that voice, and he momentarily let himself become distracted as Steve was attacked, from three separate sides, to his right. “I’m heading down closer to where you guys are, the bots are more spread out. I should be able to clear more of the people hiding in shops that way.”

 

Tony focused on paving a pathway through the small waves of bots while he listened to the distinguishable _thwip, thwip, thwip_ of Peter’s webs. After what must have been only a few minutes, he saw the familiar flash of red and blue arcing between the buildings before swinging on a lamppost and beginning to usher civilians out backdoors and through alleyways to the safest point. Him and Steve, with a helpful few arrows from Clint, managed to clear majority of Central Park and began to work their way across the shops Peter had emptied till they were back-to-back with Natasha, Sam and Rhodey.

 

“Hey Mr. Stark, Karen did a scan and I think I’ve got everyone cleared, I’m headed over to your position now.” Tony could hear Peter’s feet scuffing the pavement as he assumingly pulled himself into the air with the newer webs they had synthesised last week.

 

“Uh, actually I think we’re pretty handled over here Spidey,” he clicked their comms onto a private line for a second. “You should get back to school, but you did good,” the praise made Peter smile behind his mask, but it dropped after a moment as he began to gnaw at the inside of his cheek.

 

“I wasn’t… I wasn’t actually at school today,” Tony ducked when Steve called for him to, and a disk of red, white and blue flew over his head, successfully taking out a bot that had been in his blind spot. He switched his comm onto the open line briefly to shout a thank you from over the whirring of his repulsors.

 

“What’s your ETA Spider-Man?” Rhodey swung his armour-clad arm and sent a bot smacking into a parked car, almost feeling bad about the cracked windscreen and hoping whoever owned it had insurance.

 

“I’m a couple blocks away, should be less than two minutes,” Peter’s voice wasn’t puffed at all and Tony regretted to admit that he was occasionally at awe with how much web slinging the little hero could do before he even _began_ to show signs of exhaustion.

 

“Tony can your scanners figure out how many more of these things there are?” There was a bang from his left and he turned in time to see a relatively sized dent in the back of Sam’s compacted wingsuit along with a few unsavoury words that he figured Cap wouldn’t want to hear. “I’m good,” the man assured after he paused to take down the bot that must have put the dent there. “Just figure out how many there are.”

 

“F.R.I reckons there’s at least another eighty or so, won’t take too long if Rhodes and I take to the sky, your suit functional?” He diverted some firepower to his thrustors and hovered just above the fray, eyeing the damage.

 

“Uh, yeah, they’re just getting a bit aggressive man.” He noticed Clint taking out one of the bots that had somehow crawled its way onto Steve’s back and the soldier hit the ground to shake it loose with a grunt. A tire popped abruptly from where Natasha was behind them, and Tony, with his higher vantage point, saw as even she took a well-placed but non-serious hit to her side as multiple bots filled the place she had just taken the first one down in.

 

“Getting a bit feisty down there, huh?” Rhodey nodded as he joined the Iron Man armour in the sky, firing a few low-impact missals into the outskirts of the conflict, blowing at least seven or eight bots to pieces.

 

“Here now guys,” Tony turned in the air to see Spider-Man sweep past him and to the group. The kid immediately began webbing stray bots in place as he flipped around the hand-to-hand confrontations, aiming web grenades and even busting out a taser web where he could.

 

“Stay alert kid, keep it tame,” he joked as he watched Peter darting through the bots as best he could, dodging random attacks before retaliating with hard-hitting kicks and more webs.

 

The mechanic’s attention fluttered back to where Steve and Clint were beginning to become out numbered and Natasha had diverted her tactics to short range taser disks and a few knives. “Sam can you and Rhodey get further down so we can isolate these batches a bit more, we’re starting to clump together.”

 

The two men stretched out the containment of the fight and things didn’t ease up as much as Tony would have liked. Natasha had grouped in with Clint and Steve, who were now firmly stood in a circle, clipping bots who got too close and slowly cutting down the numbers while Sam and Rhodey were flying around the bottleneck and beginning to drop more firepower into the thicker patches of bots. He glanced below and frowned as he saw Peter, who was almost backed up against the brick wall of a shop as several bots ground against each other in their haste to snap the rapidly weakening webs the boy had shot.

 

“Tony!” He dropped back to the street and shot a beam at Steve’s awaiting shield, letting it rebound straight back off and knock down multiple bots as Clint somehow managed to peg two of his own with one arrow.

 

There was a clattering a few feet away and he glimpsed a garbage can spilling bags of trash over the pavement as Peter leapt overtop it and shoulder-rolled back to his feet, immediately shooting a web and pulling himself halfway up the shop wall. He was about to fly in to take out the bots that had by now snapped the web keeping them in place, but Peter seemed to have a plan in mind as they all surged forward at once to try and reach him. The boy dropped from the side of the building, falling just in front of them, meters away from hitting the ground. At seemingly the last moment, he webbed to a lamppost and swung himself feet first into the group of bots, sending them all sprawling across the sidewalk like pins at a bowling alley.

 

Tony shook his head fondly as he heard the accustomed childish, but endearing, whoop of joy the kid made. He doubled back to help with the last wave of bots and became indulged in that as he flew through the main upsurge of them, blasting multiple and focusing on predominantly aiming for the weak spot as he worked through them.

 

“Okay guys, Sam and I finished off the bottleneck, you guys have the last few on you now, then we’re done.” Rhodey’s comm clicked off and Tony knew his faceplate had probably flipped open.

 

“I got the last three from my side coming your way Cap,” Steve nodded an affirmative as his shield connected back with his hand and he shouldered it quickly. Clint took one out, he got the last two and Natasha severed the power source on one they had missed.

 

For a moment after Tony landed beside the three, they merely took time to survey the area for any bots they may have happened to overlook. Nothing stirred aside from Rhodey and Sam landing a few feet away, the satisfied looks on their faces said they had done their own check as they flew over.

 

“Okay, everyone good here?” Steve checked over Sam’s wingsuit a bit more thoroughly as Clint picked up a few stray arrows and Natasha pocketed a small blade.

 

“Shit!” There was a muffled scuffling noise and then a heavy clap as something hit the concrete around the corner, Tony perked up as he recognised the voice, yet again.

 

“That’s P – Spidey!” He called as his suit carried him over to where the teen was just pulling himself up off the ground, at the back of a dingy alleyway behind the shop he had climbed only a few minutes beforehand. “Hey, you good kid?” Peter rubbed the back of his head and shot a final web at a bot that lay jerking on the ground a few feet away.

 

“Y – yeah, I’m good, I’m fine. Just dropped down out of nowhere, took me off-guard, sorry.” His foot toed the still bot and he shrugged with finality, the mask eyes tilting to squint up at Tony’s faceplate.

 

“It’s fine,” he flipped the faceplate and looked back at Peter, who’s mask decidedly stayed on until the rest of the Avengers weren’t stood around the corner. “You mind heading back to the tower with me?” Peter’s head quirked upward, and Tony watched the lenses of his mask widen slightly. “If you didn’t come from school, and you’re free, I wanna do another batch of that web fluid.” He wagged a finger in the direction of a quickly dissolving web that stuck against the bricks as they walked out of the alley, “they didn’t seem strong enough, I mean, they didn’t hold those bots for very long.”

 

“Uh, yeah, sorry about that. I don’t know if I used enough from the canister to keep them in place, should’ve probably just used more.” Tony didn’t miss the way Peter seemed to shoulder the blame, despite the fact that one, it was decidedly not his fault, and two, there wasn’t even a major issue in the first place. He did a final glance around before making eye contact with Steve, wordlessly checking if he was fine to head back now that everything was clear, and they only needed clean up to do their job.

 

“You cool with sticking around for Happy, or did you want to swing back?” Peter fiddled with his web shooter distractedly before looking up.

 

“I’ll, uhm – I’ll just wait for Hap,” he rocked back and forth on his ankles and when Tony snapped the faceplate shut again he stepped back, letting the man burst off into the sky as he flew back to the tower.

 

The teen absently changed his web canisters, his cheeks flushing as the familiar post-adrenaline bout of anxiousness rolled in. He pressed the pads of his thumbs together awkwardly before deciding to just scurry back up the side of the shop building and hang by himself on the roof while he waited for Happy to arrive.

 

Flushed cheeks is exactly the kind of thing he liked having the mask on for, like a second layer of skin that hid the nervous tremors and stopped him from chewing his nails like a nervous wreck. Because he didn’t have anything to be nervous about, not here and not now at least.

 

He hated his stupid body hormones, why couldn’t his Spidey-sense just figure itself out and mark Tony down as the exact opposite of a threat? _Probably because it’s still frayed from earlier today,_ his head supplied, unhelpfully.

 

\----

 

Happy only took about twenty odd minutes to drop him back at the tower, and Peter spent three more in the bathroom, pulling on jeans and a t-shirt as he jumped on one leg to pull the suit off his last foot.

 

“Took your time Underoos,” he fumbled with his access card as Tony twiddled a pen in his hand, a sheet of basic web formulas propped in front of him at the lab table.

 

“Sorry, I uhm, y – yeah,” he clenched and unclenched his hands at his sides, unable to contain the continuous buzzing in his skull as he shuffled from one foot to the other, desperately containing the urge to run.

 

“You sure you’re good Pete?” He tore his eyes up from his scuffed sneakers and nodded, probably a bit too vehemently but that was normal. Well, it was normal for him, to everyone else he was just an annoyance.

 

Or a spazz, it didn’t exactly matter, he was just whatever Flash decided to label him for the day.

 

“Yeah I’m fine,” he felt over-exposed without the mask, his face was flushing again as he thought too much about it, he needed a distraction from himself, from the phantom taught feeling of breathlessness which was all in his head. “So, what’s the deal with the webs… are you – are we going to change the formula up a bit?”

 

“Yep, can’t exactly sacrifice strength for elasticity in your industry, can we?”

 

“Yeah,” he huffed a laugh that sounded too unenthusiastic to his own ears, “yeah, uh, not the most – most ideal… situation, I guess.” _Idiot. Idiot. What did Flash say the other day at decathlon practice, yeah, ‘shut it Parker, we’re trying to concentrate and all you’re doing is blathering like an idiot.’_ “Wouldn’t wanna snap a web during patrol, huh,” _making it worse. Making it so much worse, stop talking, stop talki –_

 

“So, you’re sure that hit wasn’t a bit much, nothing broken?” _Changing subject, okay. Tony changed the subject on you, it means he wants to move on. Because you’re rambling… as usual, no surprise there._

 

“Yeah, yeah, for sure,” he mumbled, wondering whether he should stay standing where he was and continue to look like a poorly structured statue of himself or if it would be better to pull out the chair and just sit down.

 

The thought of actually making his feet move sounded horrible, let alone having to pull out the chair, tuck the edges of his shirt in when he sat and then having to try and not fidget too much unless he wanted to draw unwanted attention to himself…

 

“Yeah?” Tony asked worriedly. _What, what was Mr. Stark asking? Oh, the question, he asked a question, what was the question? Why wouldn’t you pay attention, you look so rude now. This is why you keep the mask on, so much more focused when the mask’s on._

 

“I mean, no, no I’m – I’m good. It was fine, _I’m_ fine.” Tony levelled him with a stare that made him want to turn away to hide the pinkness he could feel crawling into his cheeks.

 

‘ _You’re blushing like a girl, Penis_.’

 

After what felt like an eternity, the mechanic finally dropped the gaze, a concentrated frown picking up on his features as he fiddled with a test tube and handed Peter a pair of safety goggles. He pushed the chair beside him out from under the desk, a clear invitation to sit.

 

The teen wandered over stiffly, hating the way he could feel his back arching forward as he pulled himself in and sat down. Peter always caught himself doing that, curling further into himself to avoid attention, to submit before people found a reason to target him. He froze up slightly and forced himself to finally settle in place, so he wouldn’t fidget anymore.

 

“So, how come you skipped out on school today?” Peter picked at the hem of his shirt and looked down, his head bowed as the thought of looking up and seeming too invested in the conversation worried him, at least it did when he was beside Tony, who always seemed evenly lax and steady as he spoke. God knows how he managed to.

 

“It was just kinda a free day, nobody really had classes and there were just a bunch of activities and tents set up on the field… May called the school to let them know I wasn’t going, the school was fine with it, I didn’t miss any classes or anything.”

 

_I can’t go, not after last year. Too many people, too much stimuli, can’t fight back even if things go bad like last time._

 

“That the uh – what do you call it? Uh… festival day?” Tony tilted his head, waiting for an answer. _Speak words, use your words, just answer him so he doesn’t ask what’s so wrong with festival day…_

 

“Uh y – yeah, festival day…” There was a pause where neither of them spoke, but Peter felt like he was still obliged to draw out the conversation. “How did… how’d you know about festival day?” Tony put something into a glass beaker and scribbled notes on the paper beside him before answering.

 

“There were fliers around Midtown, I saw them and figured you’d be there with your friends toda –”

 

“Friend,” Peter corrected quietly. _Friend as is singular. Nobody else is nice enough to call a friend._

 

“C’mon, you’ve got more that just Ted.” Tony probed, still dripping various solutions into the beaker as he spoke.

 

“ _Ned,_ and no Mr. Stark, I don’t.” _Unless you count someone who punches you in the gut everyday after gym class as a friend, I’m by myself aside from the one person who doesn’t treat me like the social equivalent of May’s leftovers._ “I – I’m sorry I just… I just try to keep to myself is all, m’ not good with… social stuff, I guess.” _Why did you tell him that? He’s Tony Stark, press conferences every other day, he’s lived his whole life around reporters and interviewers, he’ll think you’re pathetic._

 

“That’s normal, ‘specially since the bite I’m guessing, with all the noise and stuff.” Tony didn’t look up from where he was scrawling a new formula underneath the old one.

 

“Yeah… yeah probably.” _How could he understand?_ “Thanks,” he murmured, touching a curled-out finger to the edge of his safety goggles. Tony hummed as if to ask, ‘for what?’ But Peter was already shifting the finger underneath his goggles and rubbing the small space under his eyes as unnoticeably as he could.

 

Tony chose that moment to look up, he caught the watery reflection of the light, the wetness on Peter’s fingers which he hurriedly moved to wipe away on his pant legs. He had the decency to let Peter at least try and cover the fact that he was openly crying for a moment before he put the beaker aside and turned in his chair, a gentle, reassuring hand touching the boy’s knee lightly.

 

“You wanna talk Pete?” He pulled off his goggles completely and put them on the bench, lifting the heel of his hand and rubbing it over both his eyes as he shook his head and tried to hide how much his shoulders were shaking in an attempt to muffle the wet sobs his body wanted to push out.

 

“No, I – I just – I’m fine, I’m sorry… I’m good, I just need to u – use the bathroom please.” His voice came out so soft that it was barely audible, but Tony smiled lightly and squeezed his knee before letting him up and watching him with an empathetic look on his face as the teen drifted to the bathrooms in the hallway.

 

\----

 

Peter locked the bathroom door behind him, his eyes squeezing shut as he switched off the lights and blinked as his headache began to recede slightly. He tried to ignore the tear-stained glimpse of himself he caught in the mirror as he made his way to the sinks.

 

‘ _Crying, Parker? You’re such a baby._ ’

 

He drowned out the memory as he cupped his hands together and pulled water from the tap to his face, letting it drop over his forehead before running over his cheeks and lashes. Peter sighed, heavily, before patting his face dry with a paper towel and leaning against the wall, his head tilted up to the roof where the lights were off. He sniffled and wiped a damp spot over his cheek with the cuff of his sleeve and muttered to himself as he flicked the lights back on, winced and walked out the door, avoiding the mirror as he went, “why am I like this?”

 

Peter walked down the hallway slowly, trying not to think about how much respect he had probably just lost from his mentor, rushing out of the lab in the middle of a project only to lock himself in the bathroom and cry like he was at school.

 

“H – hi… sorry,” he murmured faintly, keeping his head down and eyes trained on the ground as he shuffled back to his seat, unconsciously scooting his body to the far side of the chair, away from where Tony could reach him.

 

“All good kid, you let me know if anything’s up, okay?” Tony replied, his voice earnest, despite the way Peter hadn’t looked up from the floor yet, and only responded by nodding his head feebly.

 

The rest of the afternoon was relatively uneventful, Peter stayed mildly drawn into himself, Tony continued to act ordinarily, giving the boy a sense of normality and as an undercover way of letting him know it was fine, he wasn’t mad or upset in any way. But regardless of his attempted closure for the teen, Peter still looked somewhat relieved when it hit his curfew and he smiled weakly, thanked Tony for helping him with the new web fluid, and proceeded to swing back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got Tumblr not so long ago ~ It's agib_2002 ~
> 
> I post on there - it's all Marvel (especially irondad)
> 
> A few people have commented and mentioned that they've read more than just one of my fics and enjoyed them, so, if anybody wants to, I'd be really happy writing asks and getting prompts or suggestions for new fic to write if you leave them on Tumblr.
> 
> So... yeah, leave an ask/suggestion if you want me to write it (or even just ask any questions you're curious about me or my writing or anything really).
> 
> I'd honestly be happy talking about anything if anyone messaged me, so feel free to hit the asks/submissions/messages if you wanted to say anything at all.
> 
> <3


	3. Festival Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We go back one year...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I started writing this and had absolutely zero planning and zero idea as to what it would turn out to be... so, I hope you enjoy it? If you do then maybe I'll try just writing, no plan, completely winging it, a bit more often.
> 
> Please leave comments because they seriously make me overjoyed to the stupidest degree.
> 
> My tumblr is Agib-2002 so if you want to leave asks or randomly message me literally anything, do that, because I will love you forever. (But it's not like I don't love all of you who even bother clicking on my fics)
> 
> <3

\---- Exactly One Year Ago ----

 

“Ned, Ned, Ned look!” Peter bounced on his heels and tugged his friend’s sleeve, pointing across the field at a display of model replicas from the metalwork department, where a small Millennium Falcon hung off to the side. “That’s so cool, I bet whoever made that would be way more competent with Legos than us, remember when I dropped the Death Star and we had to start from scratch?”

 

“Or maybe whatever nerd who takes metalwork isn’t _as nerdy_ as _some_ people and doesn’t spend their time playing with kid’s toys.” Peter’s eye twitched slightly when Flash’s shoulder nudged him out of the way and he bumped into Ned’s side slightly, smiling sheepishly as his friend visibly prickled at the insult.

 

“Get lost Flash, no one cares,” Peter tugged Ned’s sleeve again and shook his head minorly. ‘Not worth it,’ he mouthed, his back to the other group of teens who all brushed past them both, sneering slightly.

 

The next few hours passed without incident, sure Peter’s hands went slightly shaky when he noticed Flash and his buddies looking at a stall too close to where him and Ned were, but he had a good time for the most part, he got a free sample from the food tech station and Ned got a keychain when he took a survey for business club. “Pete, I could totally fit a Darth Vader Lego on this, right?”

 

“Yeah for sure, or if it didn’t fit, you could detach his head and just have that,” he grinned as Ned elbowed his side and made a gruesome joke about decapitation as they passed a history presentation. “Hey, they have signup sheets for an Oscorp field trip!” He looked at the blue sign at the stand across from them and Ned rolled his eyes with a smile.

 

“Peter, you do know that you the Oscorp trip is part of the mandatory curriculum when you take any advanced science, right?” Peter beamed as he remembered and trailed along behind Ned to read over the sheet regardless, and there was a note in italics at the bottom of the sign up that mentioned just that.

 

* _Please note that all students who are enrolled in any advanced science class will be guaranteed a space for the Oscorp field trip as it is part of their curriculum requirements._

 

“That’s so cool, I’m so exited for it,” he said eagerly as Ned led him to the carpark.

 

“I’m getting picked up, you’re walking home right?” Peter nodded, still eyeing some of the booths at the fair behind them with interest.

 

“Yeah, I’ll go now too, I’m just getting my headphones from my locker – see you on Monday though!” He waved, and Ned jumped into the passenger side of his Mum’s car, grinning as Peter almost tripped over the curb as he walked backwards. “See ya!” He called as they pulled out of the parking lot, turning on his heel to make his way back into the school, off the field and to the lockers.

 

\----

 

Peter shoved his headphones in his hoodie pocket, slinging his bag over his back as he closed his locker door with his elbow.

 

“Heads up, _Penis_.” Flash’s hand hit the locker beside him and Peter jolted back, his shoulder knocking into the boy behind him. “You looking to lose me that spot on the field trip?” Peter backed up, bumping into a locker as he did so. The combination locks dug into his shoulder blades and he concealed a slight wince.

 

“Uh – no, they guarantee you the trip if you take advanced science… you have a spot.” Flash scowled, and the boy wished he could back up more.

 

“Yeah, and when someone like _you_ gets bumped up into every advanced class offered, someone has to get held back in the normie classes, and then they lose the field trip.” Peter looked at the bully blankly, not understanding. “They’re looking to move someone down a class and because _you_ hold the highest test marks, they want me down in the normie classes like some sort of dumbass.”

 

“Uh… I – I’m sorry?” Flash prodded a finger into his chest and glared harder at him, a few of the boys that had tagged along shifted on their feet, as if they were waiting for something.

 

“You don’t deserve top spot, you’re just here on a scholarship because your family’s dirt poor and brains can’t get you everything in life, _Parker_.” The finger jabbed harshly into Peter’s sternum, he wheezed slightly, mentally focusing on where he last left his inhaler. “My parents pay good money for kids like me to learn, and you just freeload off the school, getting fieldtrips guaranteed, just because you probably have a stash of stupid ADD pills that get you through every test or something.”

 

“I don’t take… pills, I – I study.” One of Flash’s friends snorted unkindly and stepped forward.

 

“Can we just get this over with Eugene, this kid’s a spazz, I want to grab some more free shit before we head off.” Flash grinned and moved back, shrugging once and gesturing to Peter with a less than friendly grin on his face.

 

“Have at ‘em, I couldn’t care less.”

 

\----

 

Half an hour later and Peter was pulling himself out of the dumpster by the back fields, he picked a spoiled piece of coleslaw from his hair and shuddered, his stomach rolling as he dry heaved from the smell. He waited another eight odd minutes until Flash and his friend’s laughter couldn’t be heard and only then did he pull himself over the lip of the bin and hit the pavement with a thud. He unzipped his soiled hoodie and pushed it back into the bin with a muffled sob, it was the first thing of Ben’s he had to throw away since the funeral.

 

Logically he knew there was so way he could keep it now, not when last Tuesday’s cafeteria beetroot salad had stained the entirety of the hoodie’s front. It eerily resembled blood and inadvertently sent the teen spiralling into the first panic attack he had endured in over half a year.

 

One the fist of panic had loosened its grip around his lungs enough for him to walk without feeling dizzy, he scrambled back to his locker, his throat stuttering as he whined and coughed, asthma attack clawing at the edges of his vision as consequence for his unplanned panic attack.

 

\----

 

Peter trudged home in silence, no music to comfort him as his headphones laid, soaked in garbage juice, somewhere in the bottom of the dumpster he had crawled his way out of. Peter couldn’t even wipe his tears away, not unless he wanted to get some sort of eye infection from whatever was in the grime that coated his hands and clothes.

 

May was asleep when he got back to the apartment, he didn’t bother waking her, there was nothing she could have done to help. All he needed was to take an hour-long shower and climb into bed, maybe sleep away half his Saturday and spend Sunday worrying about the pictures the boys had taken of him as he was hurled over the edge of the dumpster, the lid slamming shut from the force of his fall.

 

\---- Present ----

 

“Hey May,” he mumbled as he got home, rubbing his eyes and trying not to think about how much he had probably irked Tony with his childish breakdown. He was Spider-Man, how was he supposed to ever impress his mentor if all he ever did with the mask off was look at the floor and run to the bathroom when he was overwhelmed?

 

“Hey Pete, dinner’s in the fridge, I’m just finishing my show and then I’m off to bed. You okay? How was the internship?” May tilted her head back on the couch and smiled when Peter bent so she could kiss his head.

 

“It was good, I mean, the light n’ stuff got kinda… yeah, I got a little bit overwhelmed today is all. But I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” he smiled reassuringly and pulled his food from the fridge. He ate dinner at the table quietly, only looking up when May ruffled his hair on the way down to her bedroom. “Sleep well,” he called quietly as she smiled and blew him a kiss goodnight.

 

“You too, make sure to get some actual sleep tonight.” Peter waited until he heard her door click shut and then he got up to rinse his plate and walk back to his room.

 

\----

 

The next day at school was unusually easy going for Peter, when he walked down the halls with Ned he only happened so see Flash or his friends once or twice throughout the entire day, and the way they all grinned at each other slyly made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

 

“You want me to walk you to the carpark, Flash and his buddies were acting kinda… off. I don’t want them to pull anything when I’m not there.” Peter nudged Ned’s arm and smiled.

 

“C’mon man, I’ll be fine,” he lowered his voice slightly, “Spider-Man, remember?” Ned rolled his eyes and nudged Peter right back.

 

“Yeah but I’m ruling that out seeing as you’d never defend yourself even if they did try something,” Peter’s smile faded slightly and when he next spoke, he sounded more serious.

 

“If I couldn’t do anything before, I shouldn’t be able to do it now Ned. Besides, what if I hurt them? I don’t know how I’d make myself anymore under-the-radar if I managed to take out Flash and his goons, they’d just target me more.” Ned sighed and gave up on the argument, he silently hoped that if it really came down to it, Peter would defend himself.

 

“Okay, just… text me when you’re at the tower, yeah? Don’t let them push you ‘round.” Peter nodded sincerely and let Ned walk him to his locker before they split to leave the school from different entrances.

 

Peter was intelligent, he knew that a day where he wasn’t shoved around by anyone meant they were most likely planning something, which is why he didn’t flinch when his Spidey-senses flared up just before he felt someone grip his collar and begin to drag him back down the hall. In fact, all he did was sigh deeply and try to get his feet back underneath him as he scuffled behind whoever was pulling him. A few lone students who were late out of their last class bustled past them, but nobody paid any mind, it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence to see someone shoving around the little guy, and other kids sure as hell weren’t about to put themselves in the line of fire just to defend Peter.

 

He could see the back of the boy’s head, he was wearing a sports jersey and had light brown hair, Peter remembered him from last year’s festival day, he was one of the boys who had held his legs when they swung him into the dumpster.

 

“Can you just pound me out here and get it over with, I have to catch the subway and I don’t wanna wait half an hour for the next one if I miss it,” Peter grumbled quietly. He thanked his lucky stars that he didn’t really have to catch the subway that day, he knew Happy was probably already in the parking lot, waiting for him impatiently.

 

“Shut it, Parker.” The boy didn’t slow even as he yanked Peter in front of him, forcing him to walk backwards blindly as he shoved his hand into the teen’s front pocket and dug around until he found the subway card. “Hope you know how to sneak onto a train,” he said evenly, before his hand bent the card in two until it snapped unequally in half.

 

Peter drew a short little breath when he saw the subway card hit the ground just as he was pushed around a corner and thrown against a wall where three other boys were leaning, waiting, one of which was Flash.

 

“Go, gimme the keys, we gotta put them back before the janitor sees.” Peter jerked his head backwards as he felt two more sets of hands gripping his hoodie and tugging him against the wall. He felt the familiar sensation of locker padlocks pressing into his side and he took a steadying breath, telling himself there was no danger of an asthma attack now, because he was Spider-Man, and he wouldn’t let them throw him into another dumpster.

 

“Go, hurry up Flash, just unlock the stupid door!” Peter pushed back on the hands slightly and winced when the grips all clutched tighter, his body being slammed back down against the wall as someone fumbled with a set of keys to his right.

 

“I got it, put him in and we’ll take this back once it’s done.” A door swung open and Peter squinted as he was thrust into darkness, his hands colliding with something and causing it to clatter to the ground obnoxiously. The light from the hall was bright enough for a short second, so Peter could make out the supply closet he was standing in before the door slammed shut and the keys jingled in the door.

 

“Hey! You can’t leave me in here!” He cried desperately, his hand coming up to try the door handle, which was very unsurprisingly locked.

 

“Go, go! Drop the keys off and let’s go.” Multiple footsteps pounded further down the hall, and then Peter was alone.

 

“Shit…” he whispered to himself, dropping to his hands and knees to peek under the door only to find the corridor empty of anything. When he stood, his jean knees were soaked in something that smelled like a cleaning solution, and his headache increased despite the somewhat welcoming lack of light.

 

\----

 

“Yeah but that’s not what I’m asking, I know he was going to the labs today, that’s why I’m parked outside his school, I was asking whether he was there already.” Happy rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to slam his head against the steering wheel as he heard Tony ruffling papers in the background of the phone call.

 

“No, no he isn’t, just call him, or text, or whatever. I don’t really care, just get him over here or it’ll be his curfew and I won’t get to talk to him about tomorrow night.” Happy mumbled an affirmative and hung up, only to text Peter somewhat grumpily.

 

_Where are you? In parking lot, waiting. Hurry up. ___

__

__Peter’s phone buzzed with the text, but he was more busy swallowing back an anxiety attack as the chemicals in the room began to feel dizzyingly overwhelming and he continued to shake the handle and tell himself he couldn’t bust open the door because security cameras and secret identity did not mix._ _

__

__He slid down the door, not caring as his pants grew more soaked with cleaning supplied as he did so, only focusing on the fact that Mr. Stark was probably disappointed in his tardiness. He sighed for a third time and let the back of his head hit the door, only stirring as his phone made him jolt in surprise._ _

__

__The continuous buzzing was unfamiliar, especially from Happy, who never once called him except from when he was answering one of Peter’s calls to complain about the constant texting that interrupted his day._ _

__

__“Y – yeah?” Peter asked timidly after scrambling to hit the accept call button._ _

__

__“Come on kid, seriously, I’m in the parking lot, get your ass out here before Tony bites my head off.” Happy’s voice sounded as if his patience had drained to bare minimum about thirty minutes ago when Peter was supposed to be out of school._ _

__

__“Thing is… I uh… can I maybe have a hand please? I’m kinda stuck right now, need a little help getting out of –”_ _

__

__“It’s a _school_ , just walk out the doors, it’s not rocket science, ‘specially not to someone like you.” For some reason the words stung slightly, they reminded Peter of all the cruel things Flash said about his intellect, jut because he was jealous._ _

__

__“No… It’s – I’m not lost, I just… some guys…”_ _

__

__“What? Kid stop mumbling, I can’t hear you, where are you?” Happy’s patience for the phone call was wearing thin and Peter took a deep breath and spoke with as little timidity in his tone as possible._ _

__

__“Some guys from the year above shoved me in a supply closet… it’s locked from the outside and they took the keys with them. I can’t break the door ‘cus of security camera’s, and I think I need help getting out.”_ _

__

__There was quiet for a moment before Happy spoke to himself under his breath, assumingly moaning about having to get out of the car._ _

__

__“Fine, I’m coming in and Tony can get rid of the footage when you get to the towe –”_ _

__

__“No! D – don’t tell Mr. Stark, I don’t… I don’t want him to know right now, just… gimme a few minutes, I’ll get out on my own, never mind, it was stupid. Sorry.” Peter turned off his phone and huffed a breath out his nose, wondering how much strength it would take to break the door handle but not the door itself. “Okay, let’s try this,” he murmured to himself softly, beginning to twist the handle until it groaned in protest._ _

__

__After a solid two minutes of hesitation, Peter finally twisted the handle enough for it to break the lock, the wood surrounding it splintered slightly but not too noticeably. He bustled out of the room and took a gulp of fresher air, swiping his subway card from the floor as he jogged to the car park._ _

__

__He should have known that the lingering scent of nicotine couldn’t have meant anything good as he rounded the corner to find Flash and the three other guys passing a cigarette around. The younger of the four, Flash, looked mildly uncomfortable as he took a drag, coughing slightly and handing it to the next person in the muddled circle. When he looked up and saw Peter, his unease was swept away._ _

__

__“Hey look, Penis finally found his way out of the closet.” The other three boys snickered at the double meaning, one of them flicking ash over to Peter’s direction as he shuffled to the far side of the stairs and tried to walk down without any more incidents._ _

__

__“You crying Parker? Or is it just piss?” Peter looked up, following the four’s gaze down to his soaked jeans. The back and knees of them were damp from what had apparently been glass cleaner, but the teen understood exactly what the other boys were implying._ _

__

__“It’s window cleaner… f – from the closet,” he said quietly, averting his eyes back down to the ground._ _

__

__“Sure it is, that’s what all the babies say too,” Flash stood from where he was leant against the stair railing and ducked under the divider to get to the side of the stairs Peter was trying to get down. “I bet that’s what you tell all the teachers when you have to ditch class and cry in the bathrooms.”_ _

__

__Peter had sensory overload every other week, and the amount of times he had to excuse himself from class and shut himself in the bathrooms with the lights off until his migraines receded was growing to a number that Flash had caught onto. Sure, once or twice Peter would lock himself in a stall and cry softly until his head didn’t feel like it was being split open with a sledgehammer, but the _one_ -time Flash had walked in and heard him, was the point at which he decided harassing Peter anytime he left class was a fun friend group activity._ _

__

__“I get headaches… m’ not crying and I didn’t… I didn’t _wet myself_.” He turned his head away when Flash poked his cheek nastily and smirked as it left a red mark over Peter’s sensitive skin._ _

__

__“Yeah? So, you’re telling me you saw the window cleaner on the floor and though ‘oh I’d love to sit in that?’” The boys behind Flash laughed again and Peter felt his face flushing._ _

__

__“It was dark,” he whispered, keeping his face turned away from the group as his cheeks burnt in humiliation._ _

__

__“You can’t lie for shit, Penis, maybe next time we shou –”_ _

__

__“Oi! You want me to come over there?” Peter flinched and looked up, Happy had pulled the car around in front of the stair case and was glaring the four boys down menacingly, his face held the same look he got whenever a reporter got a little too close to Tony. _Almost protective.__ _

__

__“Put it out,” Flash hissed to the boy with brown hair who had dragged Peter to the closet in the first place. He hurriedly stomped out the cigarette as Flash picked up an innocent look. “No Sir, we were just going,” he sneered at Peter as they brushed past him, one of their elbows found its way into his ribs and he covered the gasp with a weak cough as he trailed down the steps and slid into the backseat of Happy’s car._ _

__

__“Thank you,” he said softly, not meeting the man’s eyes in the mirror as usual. “And sorry… about being late, m – my fault.” Happy pulled out of the school’s parking lot and clicked his indicator on as he swung expertly across two lanes of traffic._ _

__

__“They pick on you a lot, kid?” Peter meekly shook his head, still not looking up from where he was playing with his hands. Happy grunted and they drove to the tower in silence._ _

__

__\---- That Evening ----_ _

__

__“Hey Hap, what’s up?” Tony shuffled a few stacks of papers him and Peter had scribbled on earlier in the evening, before his curfew rolled around and he was dropped home. Happy walked into the lab, eyeing the pages Tony was adjusting and filing away._ _

__

__“Did you talk to him about tomorrow night’s press event?” Tony nodded absently, pushing Peter’s chair in with his ankle._ _

__

__“Yeah, he said sure, but he was still… weird today, like he’s upset about something.” Happy rubbed the back of his head and sat down._ _

__

__“About that, I saw some stuff when I was picking him up, I wanted to let you know, in case he was still… unlike himself today.” Tony waved a hand as if to say, ‘go ahead,’ and so Happy did._ _

__

__He told Tony about what he had seen on the stairs earlier in the afternoon, he told him about why it took Peter so long to get out of school, he described the other few standalone incidents that he had never thought much of. The times that a boy in a silver convertible would honk as Peter crossed the road or speed up as if he were going to run the teen down. Happy had always dismissed it, assuming the kid could handle himself when it came to a few jerks in his year. But locking someone in a supply closet, poking his face and backing him up into the stair well, those were all a step up from the mild annoyances the kid had dealt with before._ _

__

__It was looking to be more of an issue than Happy had thought, and when he watched Tony pull up archive security footage of the school, they witnessed the continuous separate occasions in which Peter was shoved around, dating all the way back to a time long before Spider-Man._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got Tumblr not so long ago ~ It's agib_2002 ~
> 
> I post on there - it's all Marvel (especially irondad)
> 
> A few people have commented and mentioned that they've read more than just one of my fics and enjoyed them, so, if anybody wants to, I'd be really happy writing asks and getting prompts or suggestions for new fic to write if you leave them on Tumblr.
> 
> So... yeah, leave an ask/suggestion if you want me to write it (or even just ask any questions you're curious about me or my writing or anything really).
> 
> I'd honestly be happy talking about anything if anyone messaged me, so feel free to hit the asks/submissions/messages if you wanted to say anything at all.
> 
> <3


	4. Soft, Fluffy Spider-Baby !

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone tries to get Tony drunk at a press event and drunk Tony has no filter whatsoever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I started writing this and had absolutely zero planning and zero idea as to what it would turn out to be... so, I hope you enjoy it? If you do then maybe I'll try just writing, no plan, completely winging it, a bit more often.
> 
> Please leave comments because they seriously make me overjoyed to the stupidest degree.
> 
> My tumblr is Agib-2002 so if you want to leave asks or randomly message me literally anything, do that, because I will love you forever. (But it's not like I don't love all of you who even bother clicking on my fics)
> 
> <3

Peter tugged his tie and swallowed thickly, hating the constricting feeling of his suit jacket and formal pants. He slid his web shooters further up his wrists to disguise the small lumps they left under his suit. He gulped when his phone buzzed, and he glanced down to see Tony’s name lighting up the screen. 

 

_Mr. Stark: Outside apartment now, come down when you’re ready kiddo. ___

__

__He took a breath in and padded to the living room where May was reading a book, she looked up when he came out of his room._ _

__

__“You look great sweetie, need any help with your tie?” He nodded slowly, and she adjusted it for him without even needing to set her book down to one side. “All done, best manners, text me when you’re done, and I’ll probably be asleep, so I’ll text back in the morning. You exited about staying in the tower tonight?”_ _

__

__“Y – yeah,” May tilted her head at him curiously and he sighed, “just… worried about the crowds I guess.” May smiled understandingly and squeezed his hand._ _

__

__“You know the whole event is going to be seated, you’ll be next to Tony at a table the whole time, and majority of the night will be silent except for whoever’s speaking on stage. You’ll be okay, I promise,” Peter squeezed her hand back, an appreciative smile on his face. “If it gets too much, you know the bathrooms at places like that are really fancy, and some of them even have couches.” He laughed quietly and thanked his aunt with another grateful smile, walking toward the door as he waved goodbye._ _

__

__The elevator seemed to move too fast for Peter as he was already exiting the building and walking towards Happy’s car, the back door opened for him and he peered inside to see Tony, leant against the seat casually in a suit that probably costed ten times the amount that Peter’s did._ _

__

__“Hey kid,” he repositioned so Peter had more room in the back and the car sped off at the sound of the teen’s seatbelt clipping. “So, you know I’m not actually speaking tonight, we’re all just gonna be sitting and listening, maybe a bit of paparazzi out front but nothing inside, that cool?”_ _

__

__“Yeah, that uh, that – that sounds good actually,” Peter tried to relax his shoulders, but it was hard to with his Spider-sense playing up. When they pulled up outside the event there were more camera flashes than he would have thought, but luckily Tony went in first and they all focused on him and let Peter trail behind like a shadow._ _

__

__“You, Mr. Hogan and your intern are at table nine, Mr. Stark.” A man wearing a completely black uniform walked them to a table near the middle of the room, a direct path to the exit if anything went wrong._ _

__

__Throughout the first several speakers, the bar service was considerably faster than the food, and there seemed to be a man dedicated specifically to their table. Tony didn’t even need to raise his hand for another drink because it was constantly being refilled or swapped out for another. The people speaking weren’t overly engaging, but the weren’t boring either, and Peter wished he could just relax and tune in to the speeches, but the constant thrumming in his skull was worryingly distracting._ _

__

__It was only about halfway through the night when Peter started to pick up on Tony’s odd lapse in behaviour. He began to laugh more at the dry opening jokes some of the speakers made, he slouched in his chair, fiddled with the table cloth rather than engaging in the speaker’s topics. At first Peter thought he could have been slightly buzzed, but all the drinks the mechanic had ordered were non-alcoholic, so that theory was out. At one point, Peter even leaned over and took a bite of the man’s food, not that he noticed of course, and he didn’t find anything wrong with it, so drugs were out of the question too._ _

__

__Between speakers, Peter leant over to Happy and asked him if he noticed anything too, and after he pointed it out, they both became focused on what was going on. Tony was growing sloppier as the night went on and he even leaned across his chair and rested his face on Peter’s shoulder._ _

__

__“Uhm… Mr. Stark, are you feeling okay?” Tony only mumbled something unintelligible and then rolled his face over, so his opposite cheek was pressed against Peter._ _

__

__“This is ridiculous,” Happy declared, “wait here, don’t let him out of your sight.” He walked off in the direction of the back exit and Peter took a breath in before letting it out, ignoring the few eyes that were looking at a teenager with an almost dozing billionaire curled up against his shoulder._ _

__

__“Mr. Stark, did you want some of my water, I think it’ll help? Or maybe have some more of the bread?” Peter had eaten the bread, so had Happy, and he was only willing to offer things to Tony which he knew for a fact wouldn’t have anything in it._ _

__

__“Yeassst,” Peter covered his laugh with a cough and Tony scrunched his face in discomfort as his makeshift pillow jostled him around._ _

__

__“What about yeast? Mr. Stark I think we should get you some air or someth –” Peter was cut off abruptly by a crash from the bar and he lifted the mechanic’s head with his hands, so he could turn and see what the ongoing commotion was about. He could see where bottles had been smashed and how confused the second barman looked, but he couldn’t see the man who had been making Tony’s drinks, and he couldn’t see Happy. “Okay, we’re standing up, walking to the bar now… Mr. Stark?”_ _

__

__“You smell like an apple,” he felt as Tony hiccupped against him and Peter didn’t bother to hide his snort of laughter._ _

__

__“I smell like an apple… okay?” He hoisted Tony onto his feet and held both of his upper arms to keep him steady, walking backwards and using his senses to not back up into a table where all the other guests were seated and watching curiously. “Right okay, let’s look for Happy,” Tony was smiling wider than Peter thought he had ever seen, and he grinned right back, feeling not unlike a babysitter as he wound the man around tables and chairs like he was a child learning to walk._ _

__

__“Peter!” He looked up to see Happy, holding someone’s hands behind their back as he clutched his phone and was presumably talking to the police. “He’s spiking all of Tony’s drinks, I got officers on their way, take him to the car, will you?” Happy nodded his head toward where Tony had begun to poke Peter’s hands and was whispering something quietly to himself._ _

__

__“Yeah – yeah I can do that,” he promised, letting his shoulders sag in relief as he realised none of the paparazzi would be gathering outside for at least another hour, seeing as the event still had several speakers to go before it was finished. “We’re walking to the car now, what… what are you doing?” Peter focused his hearing to pick up whatever Tony was chanting quietly to himself._ _

__

__“Tiny hand… baby, baby hand, so cute – much baby.” Peter slowed from where he was tediously beginning to walk Tony to the door, he spluttered for a moment before looking closely at his mentors’ face._ _

__

__His eyes were slightly glassy, but still focused, his face was mildly flushed, his eyelids droopy and his gaze caught unfalteringly on where Peter’s hands rested on his arms, guiding him to the doorway._ _

__

__“Did you just call my hands tiny… baby hands?” Tony didn’t answer, just continued to mutter to himself. Peter pushed the door open with his ankles, double checked there were no invasive camera’s lurking, and then stood on his tiptoes so his face was directly levelled with Tony’s. “Hi… hello – you wanna focus up a bit here? Hey, no, stop that.”_ _

__

__“Facefaceface… such smol baby face,” Tony waved his fingers around before cupping Peter’s face with both of his hands, squeezing his cheeks together so his lips pouted. “Tiny face, baby cheeks… big eyes, big brown eyes.” Peter carefully pushed the hands away, holding them at Tony’s sides, containing his own amused smile._ _

__

__“Yeah uh… I know what I look like. They must’ve spiked you a hell of a lot, hey, what’s my name?” He clicked his fingers in front of Tony’s face and regretted it when the hand that he had been holding against his side came right back up to squeeze his cheek. “Okay, yeah alright jeez, we’ve established I have a baby face. Tell me what my name is, or better yet, your name, maybe what colour that car is over the –”_ _

__

__“Spider-Baby… tiny Spidey-Baby,” Tony cooed, making grabby hands._ _

__

__“Okay sheesh… shh, shh, you gotta shh about the spider deal, I’m your intern, yeah? My name is Peter… Pe – ter.” He emphasized, watching the way Tony was looking at him a little distantly._ _

__

__“Petey, your name should be Petey… or Spider-Baby.” Peter was quiet for a moment, taken aback by how un-slurred Tony’s words were, if the actual words weren’t so out of the ordinary, he probably could have marched back into the event and given an actual speech without anyone suspecting he was tipsy. “Spiderling baby… protecc the baby,” Tony tipped forward and Peter moved to catch him, assuming he was falling, but found himself caught in a sloppy hug._ _

__

__“Uhm, Mr. Stark? You uh… you, heh, you just grabbing the door there?” Without technically giving his body permission, Peter melted into the embrace, curling his own arms up and wrapping them around Tony’s waist, squeezing gently and burying his smile as the man began to coo over his hair._ _

__

__“Curly Spidey-Baby… so much curl, so much fluffy,” Peter laughed as Tony played with his hair, twirling strands around his fingers and muttering different variations of the word’s spider, baby, soft, curly and fluffy._ _

__

__The car alarm beeped behind them, the lights flashing once as Happy walked up, slowing down as he took in his boss hugging the teenage vigilante and murmuring as he ran fingers through brown hair._ _

__

__“Uh… kid?” Peter tilted his head, apologising quietly when Tony grumbled about ‘losing the fluffy.’_ _

__

__“Hey Happy, he’s… he’s really drunk.” They both looked to where Tony was beginning to scratch Peter’s head like a cat, continuing to talk to himself._ _

__

__“Yeah, you think?” Happy helped him get Tony into the backseat rather expertly, and it reminded Peter of the fact that Happy had probably had to do exactly this many, many times before, back when Tony would get drunk at almost every press event. “If there’s anything you’d like to know or ask him and get a straight, no bullshit answer, do it now, ‘cus he’s got no filter.”_ _

__

__Peter met Happy’s eyes in the mirror and he grinned, his mind blurring with every possible thing he had always wanted to know but either never gotten a proper answer, or never bothered to ask._ _

__

__“Do you actually think I could get into MIT?” Happy rolled his eyes as he started the engine, because _of course_ that was the first question Peter would ask._ _

__

__“Hell yeah… you probably don’t even need my pull but m’ gonna be writing so many letters of recommendation anyways,” Peter beamed and clipped his own seatbelt in, excitedly thinking of more answers he had always wanted._ _

__

__“Aw, thanks Mr. Stark. What else do I ask Happy? Uhm… uh –”_ _

__

__“Y’know, you – you – you’re a good kid,” Peter smiled and looked down at his lap. “You’re like if I ever had a kid, you’d be the uh, the kid I’d want if I ever wanted to have a kid like you… to be like you.” Peter mentally tried to work out exactly what Tony had said but it hurt his brain and he gave up after the third time. “Wish you were m’ kid, I like the brains you got.”_ _

__

__“Okay boss, might wanna think before you speak next time, huh? God he’s gonna regret all this tomorrow morning.” Peter closed his mouth from where it was hung open in a small ‘o’ shape. “Hey Tony, why don’t you let Peter know what you did yesterday?” Something lit up in the mechanic’s eyes and he spun in his seat, grabbing Peter’s shoulders and looking at him concentratedly._ _

__

__“I fixed it, I fixed it and now you’re good. Always good now.” The teen looked back to Happy in the mirror and opened his mouth to ask exactly what Tony was going on about, but the man answered for himself. “I hacked into your school and I watched all of it, then I sent it all to the principal and also some parts to the cops. Don’t do drugs Peter, never do drugs, they were doing drugs. Now they’re going to court and I’m gonna get them in jail for you, then the other one is expelled… I’m gonna protecc.” He leaned over and pulled at Peter’s suit sleeve until he was tucked against his chest. “Spider-Baby too much sacrifice… why don’t you come to me? I’ll always make it better kiddie, m’ Iron Man.” Peter felt hands in his hair again and he wasn’t too upset to admit how good it felt to be held, especially when the person holding you was normally emotionally shut-off from the world._ _

__

__“Uh… Happy can you translate him, all I got was don’t do drugs and protecc?” Tony was shushing him and running hands through his hair like a makeshift comb._ _

__

__“We looked into your school’s security footage database and collected aa bunch of clips of those three older jerks who were pushing you around.” Peter swallowed and tensed in Tony’s arms, which only resulted in an increase in the amount of shushing and the hands resorting to all-out petting him like a cat again. “Turns out they’ve been selling some prescription meds to freshmen during exam time, and they thought it was sneaky to do it in the middle of the hallway, which we recorded and sent to the police station anonymously.” Tony nodded in agreeance and continued stroking through Peter’s curls and slurring pet names for the boy._ _

__

__Happy turned into the garage and switched the engine off before continuing. “And that Flash kid or whatever the hell his name is – he’s getting expelled tomorrow for what they all did during last year’s festival day.” Peter stiffened completely, and Tony picked up on it._ _

__

__“M’ n’ asshole Petey,” the teen looked down at his feet as his face flushed. “You didn’t wanna tell me. I know m’ weird about stuff, but you c’n always tell me when you’re having problems like that.”_ _

__

__“I don’t think you really realise how bad it got kid, if you didn’t have accelerated healing… a couple of those hits that Flash guy dealt after gym could’ve sent you to hospital.” Peter shrugged and tried not to think about any of them, “no I’m serious Peter, both of us are.”_ _

__

__“You could’ve died last year,” Tony mumbled, “they broke your inhaler.” Peter shuddered at the memory of the plastic crunching under one of the bully’s feet as his own lungs constricted and he gagged on the thick scent of the dumpster which engulfed him. “Why didn’t you tell me when they hurt you, how c’n I protecc if you keep stuff like that from me?”_ _

__

__“I didn’t want to seem like a pathetic kid getting shoved around at school, it didn’t even matter that much. Plus, they would’ve just gone after other kids… people who _don’t_ have super healing.”_ _

__

__Happy opened Tony’s door and helped him out while Peter slipped around the back of the car and slung his mentors’ arm over his shoulder, letting Happy lock the car up._ _

__

__“You good with getting him upstairs?” Peter nodded and F.R.I.D.A.Y opened the lift for them. “I think you’ve been through enough kid, take a load off, get some well-deserved answers out of him, I swear it’s hilarious.” Happy had a smirk on his face that said he knew what he was talking about and Peter returned it._ _

__

__“Okay, will do… and um, thank you – seriously, for everything.” Happy nodded, not one to make things overly mushy, and got into his own car to head home for the evening._ _

__

__\----_ _

__

__Tony was lying on his side, under the covers of his bed in the penthouse. Peter had a bowl on standby in case he threw up, a glass of water and tablets for the next morning. He was slouched on the floor, his back leant against the side of the bed while Tony’s hand was lazily carding through his hair._ _

__

__“So… what else can I ask you?” Tony hummed but otherwise said nothing as Peter thought. “Do you think those guys were picking on me because of something going on with them… or do you think maybe I deserved it?” Tony huffed and the air ruffled Peter’s hair._ _

__

__“Think they suck,” he said plainly, before softening slightly. “I think whatever was happenin’ in their lives isn’t an excuse for how they treated you. They were mean, they hurt you, made me angry.” Peter smiled slightly at that, liking the way Tony didn’t conceal his protective streak when he lacked a filter. “They could have hurt you bad… what if you didn’t have a backup inhaler last year? You actually could have died… Petey…”_ _

__

__Peter’s eyes widened slightly as he heard a sniffle from the bed, and then two arms were reaching down and pulling him up onto the mattress. Tony wound an arm around the back of his head and held his face against his neck, cradling Peter with more fragility than anyone ever had. “You’re too much… you mean too much, too young for so much shit. M’ sorry, m’ so sorry…” Tony was mumbling, cupping Peter’s head and nuzzling in his curls, whispering softly and promising to be a better mentor. “I didn’t like it, you looked so sad, so _hurt_. Why do you always cry? I wanna help, lemme help you.”_ _

__

__“I’m sorry, I don’t like it either. All the lights and sounds are too much, and I was always so _scared_ at school. They said mean stuff, and I always feel bad when I cry… I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to think I was… pathetic. I didn’t want you to be disappointed.”_ _

__

__“But m’ not… I’m always so proud, you’re fifteen and you’re already smarter than me, you’re a superhero and I don’t understand how you always just wanna help people – even the people who are bad to you.” Tony hugged him tighter and Peter briefly wondered exactly how much of everything the mechanic would remember in the morning. “And you’re not pathetic, you had an asthma attack and walked all the way back to your locker during it. You fight with the _Avengers_ even though you’re a soft Spider-Baby. You’re never gon’ be pathetic. Not to me, not to anyone else.”_ _

__

__“Thank you,” Peter said quietly, hugging his mentor back tightly. “You should filter less when you’re sober… it’s nice – you’re nice.”_ _

__

__“Sober Tony’s an asshole,” he grumbled, letting Peter up off the bed._ _

__

__“Hey Mr. Stark?” Tony looked up from the pillow at Peter who was standing in the doorway. “Can you tell F.R.I.D.A.Y how you’d describe me in five words?” He smiled and walked back to his own room, setting an alarm for the next day._ _

__

__\----_ _

__

__“I can’t believe that jerk spiked my drinks and got me drunk just so he could ruin my public image… stupid bad guys and their stupid motives.”_ _

__

__Peter laughed from the counter, a bowl of cereal in his hand as he watched Tony drink his second cup of coffee. “What are you laughing at, what’d I say last night?”_ _

__

__“You told me about how you went through my school’s security footage and got enough evidence to get those guys expelled and sent to court.” Tony nodded tiredly as Peter continued, “and you told me you were proud of me,” his nose scrunched in aversion to the emotions. “And you also cried a tiny bit, I think, when you talked about me dying.”_ _

__

__“What? I talked about you dying? When in the hell did I do that – wait – _why_ in the hell did I do that?” Tony set the coffee machine on to make a third cup and took Peter’s finished cereal bowl to the sink before turning around and quirking his eyebrow, waiting for an answer._ _

__

__“When I had an asthma attack last year, you were making a point, saying what could have happened if I didn’t have my backup inhaler in my locker.”_ _

__

__He could still remember the panic when his throat began to close up and the tears that blurred his vision when one of Flash’s friends stepped on the inhaler as they all scurried away from where he was on his hands and knees, pulling at his shirt collar as if it were the thing choking him._ _

__

__“Oh… okay then, what else?”_ _

__

__Tony must have known from the small smile on Peter’s face that he had done something embarrassing because he sighed and started working through his third cup of coffee._ _

__

__“Hey F.R.I? Can you play the clip we took from last night?” Tony rolled his eyes at Peter and then the ceiling, as if the A.I knew that the gesture meant he was unimpressed._ _

__

__“I swear if I made another drunk sex tape –”_ _

__

__“Ew! Mr. Stark that’s so gross,” Tony waved him off with a hand and a laugh, knowing exactly what made the teen wrinkle his face in disgust._ _

__

__“Playing audio clip from four thirty-two am – _You listen here F.R.I, Peter is a soft, fluffy Spider-Baby and you need to make me drink more often so I can touch his curls!_ ”_ _

__

__“You can shut your face hole mister, stop laughing, I was so clearly plastered.” Peter snickered, and Tony looked accusingly at the ceiling, “delete clip.”_ _

__

__“Are you sure you would like to delete this audio recording from four thirty-t –”_ _

__

__“No,” Tony sighed heavily as he looked into Peter’s hazel eyes which were lit up with laughter. “No, just… save it to ‘put it on the fridge’ protocol.”_ _

__

__Peter laughed even harder and Tony took the moment to ruffle his curls affectionately as he walked past. “Just as a heads-up kiddo, drunk Tony has no filter, and that means everything from last night was straight up raw information, no lies.”_ _

__

__Peter smiled softly._ _

__

__“Thank you, Mr. Stark.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got Tumblr not so long ago ~ It's agib_2002 ~
> 
> I post on there - it's all Marvel (especially irondad)
> 
> A few people have commented and mentioned that they've read more than just one of my fics and enjoyed them, so, if anybody wants to, I'd be really happy writing asks and getting prompts or suggestions for new fic to write if you leave them on Tumblr.
> 
> So... yeah, leave an ask/suggestion if you want me to write it (or even just ask any questions you're curious about me or my writing or anything really).
> 
> I'd honestly be happy talking about anything if anyone messaged me, so feel free to hit the asks/submissions/messages if you wanted to say anything at all.
> 
> <3

**Author's Note:**

> I got Tumblr not so long ago ~ It's agib_2002 ~
> 
> I post on there - it's all Marvel (especially irondad)
> 
> A few people have commented and mentioned that they've read more than just one of my fics and enjoyed them, so, if anybody wants to, I'd be really happy writing asks and getting prompts or suggestions for new fic to write if you leave them on Tumblr.
> 
> So... yeah, leave an ask/suggestion if you want me to write it (or even just ask any questions you're curious about me or my writing or anything really).
> 
> I'd honestly be happy talking about anything if anyone messaged me, so feel free to hit the asks/submissions/messages if you wanted to say anything at all.
> 
> <3


End file.
